


A Ride Home

by Geromy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Jesse McCree, Chronic Pain, Homophobic Language, M/M, Medical marijuana, Older Man/Younger Man, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geromy/pseuds/Geromy
Summary: He never meant to get this drunk. And he definitely never intended on putting out the attractive young front of this shitty dive's house band. Jack's never gonna let him live this one down.





	1. Chapter 1

On any normal weekend, you’d be unlikely to find Gabriel Reyes wandering into a bar at 10PM, 15 entire minutes past his strict bedtime that he had assigned himself at the ripe age of 43. But unfortunately for him, and the unforgiving bags under his eyes, when it’s Jack’s birthday, what Ana says, goes. And she had decided they were celebrating. No party, no fanfare, just an evening together with some drinks. 

Despite his internal turmoil Gabe agreed without a fuss, pulling up a pair of semi-formal slacks he hadn’t touched in years and a button up shirt that was… A little small on him. Skipped too many leg days he supposed, hiding the tugged button with a casual tie and pulling on a sports jacket. 

He managed to make it to the place before anyone else. It seemed to be going for a saloon vibe, though the thumping bass and crisp bouncer gave away the charade. He found himself a spot along the outside wall and leaned back, pulling a cigarette from the box in his inside pocket. As he went to light it though he hesitated, eyes thinning as he glanced down to either end of the block. If Ana caught him she’d rip his ear off. No sign of her yet. He flicked on the lighter and took a drag.

He hadn’t managed to finish his cigarette when Jack came around the corner, shoulders stiff in the way they only got when he was rattled about something. Judging by the big show he was making of trying to cram his keys in his jacket pocket…

“Can’t believe Ana couldn’t have picked a place with a valet. Every hotel worth staying at has a bar.” 

God he was predictable. And pompous. It was a miracle they could stand each other long enough to still consider the other a friend. 

“Guess you aren’t planning on drinking much,” Gabe noted, stamping out his cigarette and flicking the remains into a nearby trashcan. 

Jack quirked up an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. “Neither are you, if you’re smoking where Ana can catch you. She’ll knock you out cold, no booze necessary.” 

Guess he wasn’t  _ that _ bad.

“Happy birthday.”

“Birthdays after 35 stop being happy,” he replied flatly, stoic as ever. “But thanks. Ana called, she’s waiting on Reinhardt to pick her up. Told us to start without them. Not sure how she expects him not to drink his own weight in beer to get them home.”

Great. Another one of Ana’s make-up schemes. She always had to meddle, as passively as she could. They didn’t even have a discernable fight, they just never got along. 

“Guess the three of you are going to be giving Uber some good business tonight,” Gabriel noted, pushing off the wall and heading through the beat-up western aesthetic ropes past the bouncer and into the bar. 

The place wasn’t all that busy yet, a handful of empty tables sprinkled around. The walls were busy with tacky Route 66 memorabilia and rusty license plates from all 50 states, aside from one wall that had a painted mural. Horses in a grassy field. Gabriel could barely drink it in. The place was awful. 

“Feels weird being here without Lindholm,” Jack said suddenly, hands in his pockets. He seemed to be drinking the place in too, but his face was impossible to read. “He could drink us under the table.” 

“Literally,” Gabriel added, barely biting back the snicker when Jack shot him an unimpressed look. 

“Can’t resent the man for embracing fatherhood though. Would have been lucky to live that kind of life.” 

Talk about depressing. Gabriel didn’t reply, instead finding a table to sit at. He picked up the filthy menu from the center of it as Jack took his coat off and draped it along the back of his chair. All of the drinks were named after Clint Eastwood movies. “Signature cocktails straight out of the wild wild west” was written at the top. Gabriel had his doubts about that one.

As he finished reading the menu the awkward air started to settle in. Gabriel tried to busy himself with the atmosphere to try and stop the silence from being so palpable. 

There was a stage set up in the corner of the room, with a piano and some guitars, mics and one dirty looking banjo. Behind it all there was a DJ set up, currently offering the place some generic pre-recorded country tunes. Looks like they had live music sometimes, though. 

“Evening, Gentleman!” a voice interrupted, bubbly and young. The youthfulness of it almost knocked Gabriel off his seat. He turned to find a waitress; too-low tank top, crooked double braids, daisy dukes and cowboy boots. Almost seemed a waste without a cowboy hat on her head. But maybe they wanted to keep it light.

“Good evening,” Jack replied, seemingly not at all taken aback by the sudden intrusion of energy. 

“How’re y’all doin’ tonight?” she asked, the feigned accent almost grating on the ears. “My name’s Hana and I’ll be servin’ y’all today. Were you folks in’ersted in seein’ a dinner menu?” 

“Men my age eat dinner at 4:30 in the afternoon before the chefs start using spices,” Gabriel replied. “Just a whiskey for me. No ice.” 

Hana bubbled up with laughter. Gabriel couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. Guess she was just good at her job. Not that her job should be entertaining old men.

“I’d just like a beer, whatever you have on tap,” Jack added, before leaning forward in his seat and threading his fingers together. Here we go. “For the record young lady, there’s no need for the facade. We’re well aware you’re just a college student trying to pay bills and not a closeted cowgirl.” 

Gabriel put his face in his hand. Now he could tell her laughter was faked.

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly, dropping the accent. “One whiskey no ice and one beer. I’ll be back in a minute.” 

“I pity these girls,” Jack continued, glancing around the room. “Forced to dress like that, forced to play some part for horny men.” 

“Yeah, probably  _ extra _ awkward when a stranger they’ve never met decides to pop in and put her on the spot to either pledge allegiance to her company or risk losing her job by not living up to her boss’s behavior expectations. Do you also tell cashiers they don’t have to offer you a rewards card because you  _ know _ they’re just upselling and don’t actually want you to get the most out of your money?” 

Jack pointedly ignored him, opting instead to bring his cell phone up to the table. 

“Sounds like they’ll be here soon,” Jack said.

“Can’t wait.”    
  


It was an awkward five minutes while they waited. Gabriel was sipping at his whiskey while he took the time to examine and judge every single piece of artwork on the wall. He was making a trope checklist in his head. He didn’t dare look at Jack, almost sure that he was doing the exact same thing. God they must look awkward. Their poor waitress probably even felt awkward about it. 

Finally though Ana and Reinhardt arrived, both of them dolled up. Clearly this was more than just Jack’s birthday. They were on a date. Ana even had a corsage. How old school. 

“Happy birthday!” Ana exclaimed, out stretching her arms as Jack stood from his seat. They shared a hug while Reinhardt pulled over two more chairs. Despite their weight it was clearly an effortless task for him at his size. 

“It’s great to see you, Ana.” 

The two moved apart and sat back in their seats. Reinhardt slapped a meaty hand down on the table, making the tabletop wobble. Gabriel had already picked up his glass in preparation, but Jack nearly ended up with beer in his lap. If only he had worse reflexes. 

“ _ BEER. _ ” 

“Please,” Ana added, leaning forward in her seat with a sweet smile.    
  


The evening went on without incident now that Ana was here to break tension. Reinhardt was chugging pint after pint, which only seemed to make a dent in his inhibition after six or seven. He was red in the face, but Gabriel had no way of knowing if that was alcohol, or just how much he was laughing. 

Gabriel was surprised to find himself on this third drink, warm in the face and chest, smiling, listening to his friends’ chatter. Hana had dropped off a bowl of peanuts almost an hour ago and the table decided they wouldn’t leave until one of Reinhardt’s pint glasses was full of shells. They were only halfway there. 

All four of them looked up when the music suddenly disappeared. Gabriel turned toward the stage and saw the DJ waving off, apparently having been replaced by actual music. Hana was at the mic while a few men got ready. Her accent was back in full swing, along with a jolly swing of her arms.

“Ladies and gentleman won’t you please give your best country western welcome for our house band, Eight Seconds!”

As she stepped aside there was a small handful of hollers from the tables. Guess this band had some regular fans. Gabriel sipped his drink. The guy at the front still had his back turned to the crowd as he got his guitar tuned. It was… Kind of an awkward silence while he got ready, honestly. 

[ But eventually there was a couple quiet strums. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VGDcYHfQvy4)

“ _ One, two, three, four!” _

The strums turned into a tune. All the percussion seemed to be coming from a dude hiding behind a Macbook, but from what Gabriel could tell, they were actually playing their guitars. The guy at the front finally spun around on the heel of his cowboy boot, letting his guitar swing behind his back in favor of moving his hands- pick still pressed between his fingers- onto the microphone to sing.

The guy was old, old for a house band at a bar, at least. Definitely over thirty, maybe even pushing 40. He had literally just gotten on stage but he was already sweating, mutton chops glistening under the stage light. When he tipped his hat up- which wasn’t even a cowboy hat- Gabriel saw unkempt eyebrows and long, long eyelashes. 

For a brief second he felt himself get dizzy, but moving an arm onto the tabletop to stabilize himself seemed to do the trick. Might be time to stop drinking.

The guy on stage brought his guitar back in front of him when his backup vocalist took over. He watched his fingers every time they moved to a new note, like a beginner. The two men sang a verse together before diving into the chorus.

Gabriel was kind of surprised that the audience was actually participating. If he was being honest, they sounded like shit. Guitars were too loud compared to the vocals, which were… Also just, too loud. Didn’t seem like the amps could handle it. 

Guy up front moved around to the front of the mic for what Gabriel could only assume was going to be one of many overreaching guitar solos. Two bars on repeat, barely worth the show of emphasizing it. His back was to the audience when his backup guy started singing again, and he moved back into position.

“He’s kind of cute,” Gabriel heard Ana yell. When he turned he saw she had leaned in close, face obscured by her glass of wine she was tipping into her mouth. But he’d never miss the carefully calculated height of her eyebrows that were meant to be suggestive. 

Sometimes he regretted coming out to Ana all those decades ago. Not because he was offended by the teasing, but because she knew his type too well. And when he’d rather ignore it, she was there to bring it up.

This time when they dove into the chorus, front-man did another spin. And the way he landed, one foot stomping forward, (completely interrupting the music with the sound of the stage), it was as if he had sent a shockwave hurtling through the bar. It knocked Gabriel back, almost out of his seat. He felt Ana’s hand catch him, and somehow he could barely hear her asking if he was alright, like his ears were plugged up with water. 

The same guitar solo began again. He could still hear Ana’s voice mumbling behind him. Him and the singer made eye contact for a brief second as his eyes scanned the audience.

Then he pulled away from the microphone. Hopped off the stage with another unpleasant thud. He was still strumming his guitar, a new beat this time. He weaved between tables as he went. Flashing grins, tipping his head. As he got closer Gabriel noticed he had a toothpick in his mouth. What a disgusting habit. 

His guitar riff turned into just a few strums as a guy on stage started doing something or another. Gabe didn’t turn to look, eyes glued to this man weaving through tables and tripping over purses. He didn’t have a charismatic bone in his body. He was a bumbling idiot. Living out the dreams of a 23-year-old while barreling toward the humpday of his entire life. 

Gabriel drew in a breath as he got closer to the table. Just close enough to shoot a wink at Ana. Fuck, his eyelashes were long. His facial hair was atrocious. He smelled like body spray and his shirt was soaked under the armpits. 

He took off back for the stage. Came in late with his part of the guitar. God he was embarrassing. Gabriel managed to tear his eyes away long enough to flag Hana down for another drink. One more wouldn’t kill him. 

The chorus went on for what felt like forever. He wanted the music to stop so badly. They started spelling out the title of the song and his head was spinning. The audience sang along. How did so many people even know this fucking song. 

The claps at the end of the song were far and few between. The singer lifted a hand as he took several gulps from a bottle of water. Wait, where did the toothpick go. 

“Thank you kindly y’all,” he spoke, squinting in the stage light, tipping his hat down low. “Hope we’re all having a great time tonight.” He phrased it like a question and there was a few hoots from tables in response. 

“We got any new comers out there?” he asked. 

“Over here!” Reinhardt immediately yelled. Gabriel suddenly wished he had an entire pint glass to hide behind instead of the glass he was currently tipping back to cover his face. Too much whiskey came into his mouth but he managed to swallow it, throat on fire. 

“It’s our good friend’s birthday,” Ana added, moving an arm to Jack’s back. Somehow knowing he wasn’t currently in Jack’s shoes made this entire situation slightly less mortifying.

“No shit,” the guy replied. “Well the name’s McCree, but now that you’ve heard my band play we can probably move to a first name basis. Just call me Jesse.” 

_ Wow, _ he has a name.

“I need to,” Gabriel started, slipping down from his chair. As his feet landed though he wobbled, apparently having underestimated his current level of intoxication. “Bathroom.” 

 

When he made it back to the table it seemed like their third song was ending. As he got up on his seat he tried to flag down the waitress again, but Ana took his hand. 

“We’re just about finished,” she told him, leaning in close so she could speak directly in his ear. “Far be it from me to cut you off, just thought I’d tell you in case you wanted to call it quits too.” 

He thought on it for a moment. On the one hand, being in this place alone sounded absolutely horrible. On the other hand,  _ Jesse _ was still on stage, his pit sweat had practically reached his waist, and Gabriel hadn’t completely blacked out yet, so he probably had one more drink in him.

He flagged the waitress down. Reinhardt put a strong hand on his back. “You’d put Torbjörn to shame, old friend.” 

It sounded like a compliment, but Gabriel knew better of Reinhardt’s colorful range of tones. 

He tried to nurse this drink a little slower. His friends left. Jack paid the bill for the table. As expected, everyone left in an Uber. The bar was starting to spill out, the young crowd heading to clubs. Gabriel was exhausted. Somehow though, it wasn’t even midnight.

_ Fuck _ he was old.

 

As the song ended he felt his head spin. The entire room was beginning to get wobbly and unstable. When he turned his head it was like his brain needed time to catch up. Hana brought him a glass of ice water and he thanked her, probably aggressively. Before he could do anything else he pulled the 40 dollars out of his wallet and left it on the table. And after a moment of thought, he dumped all of his change on top. 

“Folks you’ve been an amazing audience but we’re gonna move on to our special guests now,” Jesse said into the microphone. The room suddenly felt so silent without the awful guitar. And he was leaving. 

The crowd was the loudest it had been all night when he lifted a hand and headed off stage. Gabriel’s eyes were glued to his back as he left. His back was sweaty too. 

As he disappeared behind the curtain Gabriel managed to stand. Swallowed the last gulp of whiskey in his glass and chugged the last of his water. 

Hana came by as he was pocketing his wallet again.

“Heading out?” she asked. “Need me to call you a cab?”

Gabriel adjusted the collar on his jacket. The action made him dizzy. 

“I’ll take the bus,” he told her. “Thanks for taking good care of us tonight.” 

She seemed to light up. “You’re very welcome! Get home safely!”    
  


He was determined to do just that. Hands in his pockets he stalked down the sidewalk to the bus stop across from the one he had gotten off at. He wanted to smoke, but he wasn’t exactly sure how he’d manage putting it out fast enough to hop on a bus. 

When it pulled up he barely managed the step up. His entire brain was lagging on what the next step was. Pay fare. He checked his pockets. Dug out his wallet. 

He left all his cash on the table.

And there he stood on the sidewalk. Everyone he knew just as drunk as he was. He felt kind of bad for making fun of Uber now, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be able to figure it out this intoxicated. He doubted they’d let him back in a bar this drunk to ask for help. Time to think of plan C.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabe made his way back across the street, around the corner where Jack first popped up. It wasn’t a far walk to the closest parking lot. Jack’s car was out of place with the usual downtown crowd; shiny and new and expensive. 

He could probably figure out how to break into a car with a pocket knife, right? He approached the passenger door and started digging through his pockets. Just break in and he could sleep in the back seat until morning. Maybe Jack would even come back for his car early and give Gabriel a ride home. 

“You ain’t planning on driving, are you?” 

Gabriel froze. Either he was about to get caught trying to break into a fucking car, or about to get caught about to drink and drive. This was bad. 

“No,” he said, probably sounding less than convincing. He looked over his shoulder and holy  _ shit, _ it was Jesse standing there.

He was in different clothes now. Smelled a lot nicer, wasn’t so sweaty. And the look on his face was so… Endearing. It made his drunken heart melt.

“Do you need a ride home?”

 

He’d reached the point where the world was moving so fast he didn’t bother to keep his eyes open. It took a bit of convincing but Gabriel eventually accepted the offer, hands stuffed in his pockets shyly as Jesse lead him to another corner of the lot. Gabe was struggling to walk in a straight line, eyes mere slits as he walked. Every slight wobble in his step sent the world in his vision barreling left and right. 

One wobble was too much and he veered left, catching himself on a pay station. 

“Hey, you alright?” Jesse turned back around when he heard the thud, moving back to where Gabe had paused and getting an arm around his back.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel slurred, pushing off the pay station and nestling against Jesse’s side, putting his own arm around Jesse’s waist. “It’s just, I’m so old, if I fall I could die. I don’t have life alert.” 

He didn’t miss the loud snort Jesse let out. It made his heart leap. 

“I’ll be your life alert ‘till morning, pumpkin. Promise.” 

Jesse had a pickup truck. Not a nice one. It was low to the ground and rusted up. He left Gabriel propped up against it as he unlocked the door. Manually, with the key. How old was this car? Once the door was open he stayed close as Gabriel crawled inside, laying himself across the entire front seat. God it felt good to be horizontal. 

“You need any help with the seatbelt?” Jesse asked, reaching in to take Gabriel’s arm and pull him back upright. His hand felt so small compared to Gabe’s bicep. He had such wide shoulders and a broad chest, but his hands and his waist were… So small. He wanted to take a proper look, try and see just how disproportionate it was. But when he opened his eyes they couldn’t even focus on Jesse, much less note any details. 

“No, I’ve got it,” Gabriel replied. Jesse snickered again.

“Sorry, you took too long to answer. Already did it.” 

_ Fuck. _ He was too busy trying to figure out what percentage of twink this faux-cowboy was to even acknowledge he had been spoken to. 

He rested his head back on the seat and Jesse moved around the truck, getting into the driver’s seat. The truck started with a loud  _ klang _ , the entire car rumbling as the engine roared. 

“Can you tell me your address?” 

Gabriel rattled it off like a memorized tune, having recited it so many times at doctors offices it was like a song on the radio. Getting old sucked. Chronic pain illnesses sucked. But everytime he went in for a treatment and he sat down with a couple other old people, there’d be one barely-20-something sitting among them and he thanked his lucky stars he didn’t have it worse. 

 

The drive felt so long. Jesse had a country station playing on his radio, a volume so low it was barely audible. Gabriel was mostly watching him. The way he scratched his nose, rubbed the hair along his jaw. Tipped his hat out of his eyes. Flipped on the windshield wipers when they drove through a quick patch of rain. 

Gabriel tore his eyes away to look for the button to roll the window down. His hand traced the door, the arm rest on the door. There was nothing, not even a lock button. 

“How do you,” he managed. “Air.” 

Jesse looked over. “Oh. It’s by your feet. I can help you next red.” 

Gabriel glanced down.  _ Fuck _ this truck was old. An actual handle you had to actually roll to roll the window down. He knew them well from coming up, but this young guy couldn’t do better? He leaned forward in his seat to try and reach for it, but quickly shot back up. That was dizzying. Nauseating. He could handle waiting for a red. 

 

Didn’t take long either. They pulled up to a light and Jesse put on the parking brake, undoing his seatbelt. He shifted himself into the center seat and, without a second of hesitation, laid himself over Gabe’s lap to reach the handle and start rolling it down. Gabriel drew in a breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he had any physical contact beyond shaking hands or friends touching his back. His entire body lit up in flames just from the brush of Jesse’s chest on his knee. 

Thank God whiskey dick was a real thing.

He didn’t exhale until Jesse moved back into his seat. Did his seatbelt, got back in drive. And Gabe went right back to staring at him, now with the cooling breeze of the night air on his face. 

“By the way,” he started, his head almost horizontal against the top of the seat. “Your band sucks.” 

Jesse laughed, steering his truck with a single wrist. Gabriel grinned.

“You sounded like shit.  _ You’re  _ fine. Good looking even. But your music is terrible. Aren’t you a little old to be trying to make it big in a band? Don’t most kids give up on that dream before 30? Don’t you have a wife or kids?” 

“No sir, I don’t,” he replied. He was still smiling, using his free hand to rub the stubble on his neck. “Ain’t tryna make it big. Just having some fun with old friends. I have a day job.” 

Gabriel turned back to look out the windshield. He recognized this neighborhood. Must almost be home. He dozed off in the time it took them to pull into his driveway. Woke up when Jesse was leaning over him again, unfastening his seatbelt and getting his arms around Gabriel to help him out of the car. 

Gabe’s arms moved around him, too, head lulling onto Jesse’s shoulder. He smelled nice. His shoulders and chest were so firm. “I’m sorry I called your band shitty,” he mumbled, letting go just enough to lean back and look at Jesse’s face. “You’re so beautiful. Wow.” 

Jesse was grinning ear to ear, carefully getting Gabe’s arm up and over his shoulder. As they turned from the car he effortlessly kicked his leg back to close the passenger door. 

“Thanks for the compliment,” he said, leading Gabe up the driveway. “You’re allowed to not like the music though. Ain’t for everyone.” 

“It’s really bad. But you’re still really nice to look at. You’re so pretty.” 

“You got a spare key?” Jesse asked. Gabriel replied by mumbling off the code to the electronic lock, which Jesse carefully punched in before pushing the door open. “Pretty good at remembering numbers, ain’t you?” 

Gabriel felt his entire body relax knowing he was home. The place was a sty, now that Gabriel didn’t have the physical stamina to clean like he used to. Mostly just did dishes. Couldn’t remember the last time he vacuumed or dusted. He pushed off of Jesse and made his way to the living room, collapsing the moment his knees found the couch. 

“You live alone?” he heard Jesse ask. The front door closed, and he heard the deadbolt lock. 

“Yeah,” Gabriel muttered, face pressed into the couch. He rolled just enough to get onto his side, his vision nothing but colors as he stared back at Jesse’s figure in the front hall. “I gave up on starting a family 30 years ago.” 

Jesse’s keys hit the table by the door, and Gabriel heard the shuffling of his jacket being shrugged off. 

“You sure that’s where you want to sleep?” 

“Stairs,” Gabe mumbled. Having his eyes closed felt so good. Being horizontal felt so good. He couldn’t wait to sleep. 

Jesse moved closer, crouching on the floor by the couch. “Is it alright if I take your tie and jacket off? Rather you not get choked in your sleep.”

“Mmhmm.” 

He barely registered the brush of Jesse’s fingers as he unknotted his tie and pulled it from around his neck. Getting the jacket down his arms was a minor inconvenience but he still let Jesse do it, curling his arms under his head to pillow it as soon as he was done.

“God your band was bad.” 

“Yeah. I know.” 

 

The sound of morning news woke him up. The curtains were drawn so there was no sunlight in the room besides what was streaming in from the open bathroom door. Gabriel lifted his head to look around but was instantly hit with a wave of nausea. Instinctually he glanced down at the floor and, as if brought by a miracle, the small trash can from the bathroom was waiting for him.

And he hurled into it. 

The sound of his recliner snapping back into place startled him but when he looked up it was Jesse, rushing over to get situated on the floor next to the couch. 

“Good morning,” he said, sweetly, taking a glass of water from the coffee table and handing it over. Gabriel was dizzy as he sat up, taking the glass and drinking several gulps from it. It soothed his throat, and he knew it would help with the hangover. “Glad I found a trash can for you.” 

“You didn’t have to stay overnight,” Gabriel told him once he had finished the water. Jesse stood and took it from him, moving around the living room in the direction of the kitchen.

“I know, just wanted to make sure you made it through the night.” He disappeared behind the wall next to the stairs, but kept shouting. “I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. I didn’t go upstairs at all.” 

He came back with another glass of water, and Gabriel guzzled that one down, too.

“It’s alright. I appreciate it. And the ride home.” 

The grin on Jesse’s face was… Suspect. Like he was a dog waiting to be praised. He dropped down to the floor again, getting settled by the coffee table. 

“I uh. Wasn’t sure what you needed to take on a Sunday morning so I just. Grabbed every bottle in the cabinet.” 

Gabriel followed Jesse’s eyes and. He sure did. The coffee table was now home to about 12 pill bottles. Some of which he hadn’t taken in years. He made sure to smile so Jesse knew the gesture was appreciated, lifting the bottles up one by one to find the one he actually  _ did  _ take every morning. It was a small pill so he just dry swallowed it, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes.

“I haven’t had a night like that in decades. I’m usually smarter about how much I drink.” 

“Happens to the best of us,” Jesse replied. “You want to try and eat? I could make some toast or eggs.” 

“I’m alright. But feel free to help yourself. Least I can do.” 

Jesse nodded and stood, making his way back into the kitchen. Gabriel watched about five minutes of news before he stood up, too, picking up his tie and jacket from the night before. He left them on the railing on his way to the kitchen. 

“Just to clarify,” he started shyly, watching Jesse in front of the stove with a hand on his hip. “We didn’t- I mean, nothing happened-” 

“Nah,” Jesse replied. Gabriel blessed the response before he had to say anything definitive outloud. “You did call me beautiful a few times though. Kinda took the sting outta you insulting my band.” 

Gabriel laughed as he hid behind his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sure your music is fine when you have better amps. And better acoustics. And. Better talent.” 

Both of them laughed. Gabe moved over to the fridge and found some strawberries, tentatively biting into one.

“Shit,” Gabriel started suddenly, turning to Jesse pointedly. “I hope I didn’t put you off asking that.” Not that anyone had the  _ right _ to be offended at the idea of being thought of as potentially gay, but. Homophobe or not this guy saved his ass and he’d rather not piss him off.

“Asking what? If we slept together?” He seemed to be processing it, and Gabe saw the realization hit him. “Oh, you mean like how macho guys get their panties in a bunch thinking you’re suggesting they're feminine. Nah, you’re mostly on the nose.”

“Mostly?” Gabriel asked. 

Jesse winked. “Haven’t met a man yet able to convince me to call it quits with the ladies. I try and mix it up.” 

“I’d say that isn’t something anyone needs to convince you of.” 

“So would I. Quite a few people disagree, though.” 

Gabriel hadn’t thought much about it before but, now that he was, yeah. He’d heard a lot of that kind of talk, even in gay bars. How’d they always end up with the opposite sex in the end, and they were more inclined to cheat on you to get it. Honestly sounded like the kind of fear-mongery bullshit Jack would get caught up in. Not that Gabe had ever heard anything of the sort from him.

Just hated his guts.

“I’m Jesse, by the way. I’m a shooting instructor. Mostly teach kids how to use BB guns to deal with farm pests.” 

“Risky business not using a stage name.” He watched Jesse push bacon around with a spatula. Guess it was good for him that Gabriel’s clean dishes never made it back to the cupboards. Don’t really need to find your way around. He was starting to regret refusing breakfast; that bacon smelled really good.

“If I’m gonna die young to a stalker I at least want her to call me by my real name as I go.” 

 

There was a lull in the conversation after that, but it didn’t feel awkward. Gabriel moved to put on coffee, Jesse whistled to himself as he cooked. It felt like they’d known each other for months. Maybe this is what it felt like to be alone with people that weren’t Jack once in awhile. Maybe that kind of awkward tension  _wasn't_  normal.

“Wouldn’t mind knowing your name, too,” Jesse said eventually, eating a piece of bacon directly out of the pan. It totally slipped Gabriel’s mind, and his eyes were wide when he turned back to face him.

“Wow, I didn’t- Okay. I’m Gabriel. Retired early, because I can’t really spend more than a couple hours on my feet anymore. On a good day I can walk to get the mail.”

Jesse was still eating. Gabe was thankful when he handed over a piece of bacon, and started to put more into the still-hot grease. “What about before that?” 

Technically he shouldn’t be telling people that, but. Why the hell not.

“I worked as a decoder.” 

“Like, in the military?” 

He shot Jesse a look. “The nature of the job makes those kinds of specifics-”

“Classified, got it.” Jesse nodded to himself. “Do you know morse code?”

“Of course. I’d be dead without it.” 

“Cool.”

Gabriel snickered as he poured two mugs of coffee, handing one off and gesturing to the cupboard that had sugar in it. He drank his black, but Jesse dumped an inordinate amount of sugar in his. 

“I tipped that waitress almost 50 dollars last night,” Gabriel mumbled, dragging a hand down his face. “Hope my freezer is still full of edible food.” 

“Hana right? She deserves it. She’s in art school for 3D animation. Shit’s expensive. Waitress salary ain’t much. I know she’s doing something on the side. Video games? Playing video games for people. That brings in some cash.”

“Playing them…  _ For _ people? As in, they’re bad, and need her help?” 

Jesse laughed. “No like, you just watch, like a movie.” 

“Huh. Guess video games usually have a story. And there’s people who can’t afford the latest... Xbox, or Nintendo or whatever.” 

“Exactly.” 

 

Gabriel didn’t last much longer on his feet. He brought his coffee refill to the table and sat down. Jesse joined him soon after with the plate of bacon, setting it down between them. They made eye contact, Jesse’s face obscured by the mug he had tipped up into his mouth. There was something in his gaze that made Gabriel feel relaxed. Tired, but comfortable. It was almost as if the kid was a puppy that couldn’t stop from whipping everyone with his tail. 

“So the people you were with last night,” Jesse began, setting his coffee down in favor for another bacon strip. “Are they work friends?” 

“Yeah. Shouldn’t talk specifics obviously-”

“Obviously.” 

“Ana and I are close. Reinhardt’s the big guy, we didn’t cross paths much in the field, but him and her have kind of been seeing each other, as far as I can tell.”

“Cute. And the other guy?”

Gabriel let out a breath, followed by an audible, “Ugh.” 

“That bad?”

“Jack’s… A piece of work. Think back to elementary school, to the kid who’d sell out the whole class and remind teachers of pop quizzes.  _ That’s _ Jack. Except he didn’t just make everyone take the pop quizzes, he wrote them, and scolded everyone for not knowing the answers as well as he does.” 

Gabe reached for bacon just to busy his hands.

“Sounds like a dick.” 

“He’s…” Gabriel sighed. “Ultimately, he’s a good man. Strong leader. He’s just sort of lacking in the compassion and empathy department. Which is great for the battle field and winning the war, but not so much for the fellow troops’ morale.” 

“Man,” Jesse sighed. “I can’t even imagine having such an important job. That’s so much responsibility. I can’t even handle the thought of one of the kids I teach using the skills I give them on the wrong victims. Everytime I hear about a shooting somewhere I can feel esophagus tighten until I find out I don’t know the guy’s name.” 

“You’re teaching them what they need to know to handle a weapon safely and responsibly,” Gabriel reassured him. “You’re probably preventing a lot more than you’re encouraging. And it’s not up to you to raise the kids right.” 

“Guess so.” 

 

Jesse washed up after they were finished eating. Gabriel had grabbed the paper from his doorstep in the time it took the sink to fill and now, here he was, reading about yesterday’s news while a young, admittedly kind of hot country guy washed his dishes. They were quiet. Jesse was whistling to himself. And yet despite having a perfect stranger in his home, Gabriel felt completely relaxed.

After the dishes were done though, Jesse let out a long, telling “Welp.”

Guess a dream couldn’t last forever.

“You gonna be alright if I head out?” He asked, drying his hands with a dishtowel. 

Something in the pit of Gabriel’s stomach churned and ached. He tried to convince himself it was the hangover, but he knew he was just disappointed. It’d barely been an hour and he’d never felt so at home. He’d already forgotten what it was like to sit around this house all day alone. He should really get a cat.

“Of course,” he answered, pushing his chair back to stand. His knees cracked as he stood, but he’d grown past the days of bothering to wince. “You’ve done plenty already. I’ll walk you out.” 

 

It probably looked bad to his neighbors. Stepping out onto the front porch in yesterday’s clothes and seeing out a young cowboy. And this neighborhood was full of nosy white conservative retirees with way too much time on their hands. But he barely gave them a passing thought. He was completely focused. The rumbling, unsteady sound of Jesse’s truck starting up. The work he put into rolling down the window just so he could wave. The way he rested his forearm on the sill of it and snaked the other arm around the back of the front seat while he backed out of the driveway. 

His vision blurred, and before he could properly see Jesse off, he turned back inside and made his way back to the trashcan he’d already puked in once.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the chapter with the homophobia/racism so tread with caution

It was two days later that Gabriel awoke (from his third depression nap) to the sound of knocking at the door. He thought about answering it. Even went so far as to slide a leg off of the couch. But the stabbing pain in his knee and hips screamed otherwise, and he pulled himself back under the safety of his covers. 

He hadn’t made it upstairs since before he left for the bar. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast with Jesse, aside from the half a loaf of bread worth of toast he managed to stockpile before the marijuana wore off. He could try another bowl, maybe microwave a burrito this time. But even the idea of sitting up to smoke sounded like agony.

When the stranger at the door knocked again- three firm, hard knocks in a telling rhythm- he rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not interested!” He shouted, pulling his blanket up over the bottom half of his face.

There was a short silence followed by the sound of numbers being dialed into the keypad. Gabriel grumbled as the door opened, blinding him with sunlight. And in stepped Jack. Gabriel still wasn’t used to his silhouette without the billowing coattails and shoulder pads and gun over his shoulder. But honestly, Jack in too-tight jeans and a peacoat was a lot less obnoxious. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Was the first thing out of his mouth. Gabriel didn’t dignify the question with a response, letting his pile of pill bottles and pipe speak for itself. “Ana’s been worried sick. You could at least answer your phone. We didn’t even know if you made it home.” 

Jack welcomed himself in, turning on the light switch to the living room. He took his coat off and draped it over the recliner- the one Jesse had slept in. The leg rest was still up, and the blanket the kid had scavenged was still laying across it. 

They’d done this song and dance so many times before. Jack started picking up dishes and all the clothes Gabriel had managed to peel off of himself. 

“How late did you take your meds?” 

“I took them yesterday morning. I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t any alcohol left in me. They should start working by tonight.” 

“You know you need to be more careful than that.  _ This--”  _ Jack said harshly, picking up the pipe to put back in the shoebox where Gabriel kept it-- “Is only for emergencies. Don’t sully Angela’s faith in you because you wanted to get wasted.” 

He could have screamed, if he had the energy. Jack didn’t know anything about being in pain. Every pain he’s been in he’s been able to fix with surgery. None of it lasted forever. He got the easy way out. And why didn’t Gabriel deserve to get wasted? Medication or not, everyone deserves to shirk responsibilities once in awhile. But because he was like this, because he was  _ sick, _ he had to be a pinnacle of good behavior. 

But he didn’t say anything, because they had already had that fight a million times before, and Jack had never budged. 

He disappeared into the kitchen, bringing back a glass of water with a bendy straw hanging off the lip. He got down on one knee to let Gabriel sip from it without having to sit up. 

“When did you take an anti inflammatory last?” He asked, looking over at the collection of pill bottles Jesse had left out. 

“Four hours. I could have a couple more.” 

 

It took about 20 minutes for the backup meds to start working enough that Gabriel could sit up. He was still wrapped in his makeshift shock blanket, watching news. As old people did. Jack had pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and got to work. Started cooking a frozen meal, putting on laundry, dusting for the first time in months and dragging out a vacuum for what felt like the first time in years. 

It took another 20 minutes for Gabriel to make it to the bathroom, cane in hand. By the time he made it back to the couch lunch was ready, and Jack was already sitting at one end of the couch. Gabriel took a seat at the opposite end and picked up his plate.

“You owe Ana an apology,” Jack said between mouthfuls. Gabriel nodded. This was just a frozen lasagna but after days, it tasted like the best thing he’d ever eaten. This was about as malleable as he was going to get with Jack Morrison, and he hoped the prick was enjoying it.

“Deal. And thanks for bailing me out.” 

“Feels like the old days. Wouldn’t turn away from that.” 

They ate in silence. Jack took the plates when they were finished and washed up. Gabriel avoided the urge to lay back down, knowing full well he’d plunge into depression nap number four. He wasn’t even sure what time it was. All he knew was the sun was still up.

“What happened after we left?” Jack asked, sitting down again, this time in the recliner. The house was clean, the curtains were open, the TV was still on, but, like some divine coincidence, even the news was suddenly more lighthearted. 

“I tried to break into your car,” Gabriel said flatly. Jack shot him a look. “I gave the waitress my bus fare. I wasn’t gonna drive, just crash in your backseat.” 

“Pays to learn how to use a cell phone. You know the Apple Store has seniors’ classes.”

“I’d rather die. Anyway. I actually got picked up by the kid in that band. His name’s Jesse. He drove me home. Even stayed the night to make sure I didn’t drown in my own vomit.” 

There was something, _ some look _ on Jack’s face that Gabriel couldn’t quite put a finger on. 

“Nice kid.” 

Gabriel nodded, idly doing hand stretches in his lap.  _ Fuck _ his knuckles were stiff. “I was thinking I’d go back. Thank him while I’m not drunk or hungover.” 

“You sure you’re not just after an excuse to see him again?” There it was. That smug face. The one Gabe punched 20 years ago, just because, landing Jack a broken nose he had to get set back into place and himself a two week suspension. 

“Not really your business if I am.” 

“You’re right.”    
  


Once Gabriel could get to the kitchen on his own, Jack made his way out. Reminded Gabriel to call Ana and apologize. Told him to try and shower and make it to bed tonight. And to set an alarm so he didn’t end up sleeping for 14 hours. The most serious threat though was to tell Angela that Gabriel missed his medication. Which would end in a house call. And he wasn’t going to say he didn’t like the girl, but she was young, full of energy that he couldn’t keep up with. He preferred seeing her once every six months and maybe meeting for coffee.

He had to groan as he sat back down on the couch. Stared at the TV, not really watching. After a moment his head lulled backward, turning to look at the recliner. Jack had put it back proper. Folded the blanket and left it across the back. Not how Jesse had left it. 

He could probably learn to text, if it meant he could have a reliable and almost constant connection to Jesse McCree sitting in his pocket. 

Now he just needed to feel well enough to make it back to the bar.   
  


It was a feat that took almost a week but he pulled it off, once again walking into the busy, dimly lit country bar. He was by himself this time, and he went directly for the bar instead of taking up a table. There was a hockey game on so the DJ was nowhere to be seen, letting the sound of the Kings losing mercilessly to some Canadian team fill the bar. Looked like the third period had just started, so Gabriel ordered a beer and a burger and got comfortable. 

He didn’t really follow hockey; had always been more of a basketball guy. But the energy in the bar was infectious, and he felt the sting of the loss along with his peers. The guys behind him were rattling off jargon. Something about a shortie from 97, that they were especially mad about. He stayed quiet as he finished up his fries, trying to make sense of it all. Music had started but it was quiet, a white noise in the background. Nothing like the DJ. 

“You’re back!” 

He recognized that voice, young and peppy and energetic. He spun his stool to find Hana with a toothy smile. 

“Nice to see you,” he said, hoping it didn’t come across too formal. 

“Jesse told me he took you home the other night. I’m glad you ended up alright. I didn’t get to thank you for the tip you left. It was  _ really  _ generous of you.” 

Gabriel nodded. “I was too drunk for my own good. But I’m glad my lack of impulse control went to a good place. You do video games, right?” 

She seemed to blush, pushing some hair back behind her ear. “He told you that?  _ Geez. _ Yeah. Your money got me almost all the way to the RAM upgrade I’m working towards.” 

“How much are you out?” He asked. 

“35 dollars, give or take.” 

He moved a hand to his chin, thumbing the wrong way along his goatee. “Night’s still young,” he told her. A promise.  

“Jesse will be on soon,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the stage in the corner. The piano had been moved since last time he was here. It wasn’t against the wall anymore. Like someone was going to be playing soon. “I hope you’ll stay after the performance.” 

“I can for a little while,” he replied. “No whiskey tonight, though. Can’t keep bumming rides.” 

Hana giggled, hiding her mouth behind a hand. “Can I get you anything? A front row seat?” 

Gabriel looked back at his empty plate, and the brand new beer the bartender had just dropped off.

“I’d love that.” 

 

Hana had found him a table right next to the stage and brought him a plate of nachos with extra toppings, on the house. It wasn’t a bad view, he could even make out the black and white keys on the keyboard with his  _ old man _ eyes. There was a rowdy table behind him but he paid them no mind. Couldn’t fully drown out the sound of their clinking glasses and college-age laughter though. 

When Jesse appeared from the back room, Gabriel started to feel really self conscious. Wishing he could have called in advance, instead of just being here. What was he supposed to do if it came across as weird? Was he stalking this 35-year-old guy and his shitty band? 

It didn’t seem that way when they made eye contact though. Gabriel raised his beer in greeting and, much to his surprise, Jesse grinned back at him, tipping his hat. It made Gabe’s heart swell.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?” He asked the crowd. There wasn’t much of a response; the bar was pretty empty now that  _ The Game _ was done. “I’m gonna start it easy tonight if that’s alright with y’all.” 

He stepped away from the mic and moved to the piano. He adjusted his stool, felt all the pedals, felt the keys with such a light touch, Gabriel found it hard to believe such a rugged guy could pull it off. 

[ The way he played wasn’t any easier to make sense of. ](https://youtu.be/9ptM0B4tcWM) The tune was soft and gentle, nothing like what he played the week before. Even the way he sang was different, quiet and low. 

It was a nice treat. Hana came by with a refill and a small stack of napkins. The bar was quiet aside from light chatter. It was like an entirely new place, led by this quiet cowboy on the keys. 

“Think they’ll play something less faggy next?”

The word hit Gabriel’s ear like a bullet narrowly missing his neck. He knew it wasn’t for him, he stopped dating 15 years ago. And after he stopped dating, the comments stopped. The idea of looking “straight enough” was disgusting on its own, but sometimes it just came down to surviving. But knowing the comment wasn’t for him wasn’t enough. He could feel that entire table of men staring at the back of his head. Waiting to follow him home. Waiting to jump him.

He chugged the rest of his drink. The buzz calmed him down and he managed to lose himself in the music again. He hummed along. Watched Hana deliver what looked like a tray full of glasses of milk to those men. Weird. 

Gabriel cut himself off after that beer. Sat back, ordered a dessert, listened to a few more of Jesse’s ballads. His voice was nice when he wasn’t straining it. He looked good up on stage without sweating armpits and a tired, worn face. He didn’t mean for his imagination to get away from him, but the idea of sitting here, few nights a week, watching this man’s musical expression? Sounded like home.

Jesse disappeared into the back room after his set was done, and the DJ took over. Much to the enjoyment of most of the younger patrons. Gabriel was on a glass of water now, staying put for just a few more minutes. Just in case Jesse had some time to pop in and see him. 

If that was even something he would want.

_ Fuck. _

When he finally appeared from the stage door again, he practically tripped over himself to get to the bar floor. He seemed to be catching some composure back when he approached Gabriel’s table, red faced, toothy grin. Gabriel leaned back in his seat, folding his arms with a knowing smirk.

“Didn’t want to miss me?” He asked. Jesse looked sheepish.

“Caught me red handed.” 

Gabriel handed over his glass of water, freshly refilled from the pitcher Hana had left for him. Jesse gulped it down like a dog back from a summer walk. 

“I liked your music tonight,” Gabriel told him, drinking in the satisfied moan Jesse let out from his quenched thirst. “Must have been your amps after all.” 

“Slow piano is a little easier to play than fast-paced guitar,” Jesse replied. He lifted a hand. The first thing Gabriel noticed was the drastic difference in skin tone between that hand and Jesse’s face. Jesse was dark, and orange. That hand was paler, and cooler.

“Wait, you do all of that with a prosthetic?” 

Jesse grinned again. Gabriel was starting to feel weak to it. “Yessir.”

He wanted to ask how he didn’t notice that arm until now, but he knew. Being wasted and hungover wasn’t a great combination for observations. “Can’t believe I called your band shitty.” He wasn’t going to laugh, but then Jesse started laughing, and it was infectious. “ _ Fuck. _ I need sensitivity training.” 

They were laughing together for entirely too long for two sober men, but it came to an abrupt stop when they heard a glass shatter behind them.

“Watch it,” a guy yelled. One of the guys from earlier. Same table that had been causing trouble all night. “Maybe this place shouldn’t be hiring Chinese girls if they can’t open their fucking eyes.” 

“ _ Hey. _ ” 

The guy’s friends barely started their laughter when Gabriel cut them off, standing up from his chair and turning around. 

“How about you take your ignorant asses back to the frat house and stop disrespecting innocent women.” 

The way they looked between each other was clearly mocking. He expected that, no one was afraid of a grandpa in a turtleneck. Their funeral if they kept it up.

“How about you stay out of it,” another guy piped up. Another one of his buddies started chuckling, low and dumb.

“Yeah dude, don’t you have a cotton field to be harvesting?” 

Their laughter roared, but all Gabriel heard was the audible  _ crack _ behind him. When he looked over his shoulder Jesse had stood, both hands on his head. That was his  _ neck _ that just cracked. His knuckles followed after as he rounded to Gabriel’s side of the table.

He didn’t say a word. He just threw his fist. 

That crack was louder. The guy hit the ground with a thud, head smacking the concrete floor a few times on the recoil. His stool clattered to the floor, drawing the attention of everyone in the bar. Even as the guy’s friends booked it, (like the cowards they were), Jesse kept wailing. Gabe was a little surprised to feel Hana cower against him but he let her, moving an arm around her shoulders. 

By the time a bouncer made it over to grab Jesse’s arms and pull him back, the guy on the floor was long since unconscious. His nose was definitely broken. Lip split, layered in blood. Jesse was heaving, lips wet with saliva and his knuckles red and bloody. The bouncer shoved him aside to pick the other guy up and take him outside. 

Jesse was still struggling for breath when he wiped his mouth along his sleeve. “Fucking nazis,” he heaved. He let his face soften, pocketing his bloodied hand to hide it. “Sorry Hana. You okay?” 

Gabriel could feel her shoulders shaking but she nodded. There definitely wasn’t fear in her face. Adrenaline maybe. She looked  _ pissed. _

“It’s almost a nice change of pace from the delusional yellow-fever flirting I usually get. Chinese is a new one, most guys fancy me a Japanese girl instead.” Hana stepped away from Gabriel finally, giving her entire body a shake-out. “I’m good. Good and  _ fucking _ Korean.” 

Jesse had such a proud grin on his face. He looked like a big brother. Hana started clearing the table. Gabriel had a seat and finished his water while Jesse swept up glass and wiped up blood. The bar completely got back to normal in no time. Gabriel briefly wondered if those guys thought making that scene was worth the trouble. 

Gabriel was counting bills to leave on the table (his bill, plus an extra 35 dollars) when Jesse finally got back. His hand was covered in gauze now, and he rested his head against it, his eyes so glossy Gabe could have sworn he saw his own reflection in them.

“Can I give you a ride home?”


	4. Chapter 4

Despite being completely sober this time around, walking up to his front door with Jesse trailing behind made Gabriel  _ feel _ as drunk as he had been the last time. He figured it had to be nerves; the fluttering of butterflies in his gut and the dry throat and the heart swelling. Jesse had announced he was going to walk Gabriel to his door, but the closer they got to it, the more nerve Gabriel was building to invite him inside.

“Hope you don’t remember the code to my door,” he snarked, making a show of hiding the pinpad as he entered the numbers. Jesse cartoonishly covered his eyes.

“I make a point to forget everything drunk people tell me. Never know what you’re not supposed to know.” 

Gabe knew he was talking out of his ass, but it was still.  _ Really  _ cute. 

The door opened. Gabriel took a step in to turn on the front hall light. When he turned around though, he pushed the door open wider. 

“Coffee?”

Jesse didn’t say anything, just took the hands off his eyes with a grin. He practically hopped in the door, giving his boots a wipe on the mat and unzipping his jacket. 

“You hire a maid since I was here last?” He asked, apparently having noticed all the cleaning Jack did.

“Nah. I got some friends who take care of things when my pain gets bad. Been out of commission the last few days.” He lead Jesse into the kitchen to put on the coffee. “How’s your hand?” 

“Little stiff,” Jesse answered, lifting his bandaged hand up to look it over. “Worth it though. Shitheads that open their fucking mouths get hit. Saying that kind of racist shit to you, and to Hana. Best be counting their lucky stars I didn’t use the fist made of metal.” 

Gabriel shrugged, almost on instinct. “You get used to it after 50 years. You don’t need to risk your fingers for me. It’s not worth it.” 

“But making sure they know they can’t treat people like that and get away with it  _ is. _ I can handle some bloody knuckles to teach some punks a lesson.” 

Gabriel left it be, pouring two cups of coffee. He started drinking his black and, from behind the mug, watched Jesse prepare his with his left hand. Knowing it was a prosthetic he could see the stiffness in the movements, the steady way the fingers curled and the wrist pivoted. But if he hadn’t have known? 

“That’s pretty lifelike,” he said, watching the way Jesse glanced around to try and pinpoint what Gabriel was talking about. When it hit him, he smirked.

“Yeah. I’m lucky I got good connections. Lady who designed this is a friend of a friend. Runs a company that designs some super high tech medical thingamajigs. Wouldn’t be able to afford this thing in a million years if I had to pay for it. Does me well though.” 

Jesse was playing on his phone as he drank, and Gabriel took it as an opportunity. 

“Wish I knew how to use my phone like that. I don’t even know how to text.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, lifting it up and down as if he was feeling for its weight. “Don’t feel smart buying a smartphone to do nothing but make calls.”

Jesse put his mug down, holding out his hand. “Texting’s easy. Here, I’ll text you right now.” 

He coughed up the phone and watched as Jesse managed to maneuver both of them at once. Gabe’s phone pinged after a few minutes of clicking. Jesse handed it back.

“Think of it like an answering machine. It’ll hold all your messages until you can get to them.” 

Gabe unlocked his phone. He now had a new contact: Jesse, with a little face wearing a cowboy hat on either side of the name. “What are these again? Emotions?”

“Emojis. They’re under that little globe looking button. Did you find my message?” 

There it was. And it said...

 

_ I’m glad you came back. _

 

His thumb hit what he could only assume was the box to input text, and after the keyboard popped up, he carefully wrote out his reply. Swapping through keyboards like Jesse mentioned, he tried to find the perfect emoji to punctuate. He ended up picking a red rose.

 

_ Me too. _

 

“Now that you’re sober,” Jesse started, hands in his pockets. They had finished coffee and were headed back towards the door. He was looking around expectantly, eyeing up Gabriel’s generic landscape paintings and knickknacks. 

“I’ll give you a tour.” 

 

As he lead Jesse upstairs, Gabriel started to feel an uneasiness in his gut he hadn’t felt in years. The upstairs wasn’t much. He headed left first, nudging the ajar door open. The room had walls of books and a couple desks; one a mess of utility bills and drug prescriptions, and the other, tidy and clean with nothing but a sewing machine sitting on top.

“I guess you’d call this an office,” he said, moving toward the work desk and fingering through papers. Now that he could make it upstairs, he should be working on some of this. “This house was a two bedroom but I never needed it. Don’t have kids, don’t have guests.” 

Jesse was meticulous as he wandered around. Took careful inventory of all the books Gabriel owned- mostly nonfiction. He took a look out the window into the backyard, which was nothing but a square of dead grass and a small shed. 

Gabe stopped watching him in favor of stacking some of his papers, almost able to see the desk calendar hiding underneath the mess. It was still on the January page. 

“I never pegged you for a seamstress,” Jesse said, taking a seat at the sewing table. All of Gabriel’s supplies were hidden in a wall-sized shelving system, and because he hadn’t touched the machine in months, the entire area was spotless. 

“It’s a good way to relax, I guess. A hobby that doesn’t involve too much physical strain. Except when my hands are too bad to use scissors.” Gabe moved a hand to the back of his neck, feeling a little sheepish suddenly. “I guess it’d make more sense if I had a daughter to clothe. As it is I’m mostly making Halloween costumes.” 

“Pretty cool. What’d you put me in?” 

Jesse spun around in the chair as if to present himself, crossing one leg over the other. Gabriel could feel himself blushing as he sized him up. He had a nice body. Wide chest, modest legs, thick biceps. But as a  _ professional... _

“How about a monster hunter. Van Helsing.” 

That seemed to please him, if the grin was an indicator. “In that case, I’m gonna need me a monster. You do couple costumes?” 

“Sure, couple of acquaintances asked me for Dr. Frankenstein and his monster some years back.” 

“Okay, but do you  _ do _ them?” 

Oh.  _ Oh. _

Gabe had to turn around, trying to hide his grin behind a rub of his jaw. That was actually kind of  _ smooth. _

“Anyway.” He turned to the door, extending an arm toward it. “You wanna continue?” 

Jesse stood up so fast he sent the rolling chair he was sitting in shooting back into the desk with a clatter. 

“Lead the way.” 

 

The reality of there only being one room left to show hit Gabe like a tidal wave. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears when he opened his bedroom door, flipping on the light. The room was actually clean considering how little he used it. Dusty, but there wasn’t any clutter. A few stray socks on the floor and a book he hadn’t touched in months on the side table, held closed by an old water glass whose contents had long since evaporated.

“Guess that’s it, unless you’re eager to see a bathroom.” 

“I’m happy here,” Jesse replied. He was way too comfortable as he sat himself down on the bed.  _ God, _ was this happening? “Damn that’s a soft mattress. Pretty sure I got mine at Walmart.” 

Gabriel was too flustered to reply. He was suddenly way too aware of everything. The fact that Jesse had unbuttoned the top few buttons on his shirt at some point, the way he was leaning slightly back on his hands, legs just barely spread apart. He seemed so comfortable, putting himself on display,  _ inviting _ something to happen. 

He knew the clock was ticking. The longer he stood here not doing anything, the closer Jesse would get to picking up the wrong message and throwing in the towel. He had to move. Sit next to him. Put a hand on him. Kiss him. C’mon,  _ move. _

“Welp...” 

Before he could even think about finishing that thought Gabriel’s legs finally got the memo. He moved himself over to the edge of the bed, one of his legs between Jesse’s calves. He had to hunch himself over to reach the way Jesse was leaning back. If his mattress was any lower, he would have lost his balance. His hands pressed into soft blanket, and he cocked his head just enough to get his lips to Jesse’s.

He let himself breathe out when Jesse didn’t immediately pull away. His hands even moved to Gabriel’s back to keep him in place. Which meant, he was holding himself up like that, with just his  _ abs. _ Fuck.

Their first issue arose when Jesse started to pull, apparently looking to get Gabriel on top of him. Which, he would have  _ loved _ if…

“My knees aren’t as young as you are,” he breathed, pulling away just enough to speak-- and to look at Jesse’s lips, which he wanted back, ASAP. 

“Shit, my bad.” Jesse breathed out a laugh and let go of Gabriel, falling down onto his back. Gabe stood back up, taking Jesse’s composure-finding moment to pull his arms out of his sleeves and lift his sweater up over his head and off. He had been wearing a wifebeater underneath, but even that was feeling stuffy. 

After a few more seconds Jesse sat back up. He started kicking off his boots while his fingers tried-and failed- to work open the buttons on his cuffs. Gabriel took a seat next to him, taking his hands to help him. Between a prosthetic and bandages, tiny buttons probably weren’t the easiest things to toy with right now. 

There was something intimate about this entire interaction, intimacy that Gabe was pretty sure he’d  _ never  _ experienced. Being able to tell a guy about his physical limitations and it  _ not _ immediately ruining the mood was a brand new concept for him. Once Jesse’s cuffs were dealt with he started on the rest of his buttons. Gabe left him to it, leaning himself back on his pillows and kicking off his shoes. He moved an arm behind his head, attentively watching as more and more of Jesse’s upper body became visible. 

Eventually the shirt came off entirely, and he got up on his knees, straddling Gabriel’s lap- but not putting any weight on him. 

“Are your hips as bad as your knees?” He asked. He leaned forward to hover over Gabe, putting his weight on his hands. His eyes were half-lidded and his face was flush. He looked as drunk as Gabriel felt. Guess that’d be called mutual. 

“You could say I’m on strict doctor’s orders to give up all bottom activities.” 

Jesse grinned. “I can work with that.” 

Finally he let some of his weight drop, carefully and gently grinding against Gabriel as he connected their lips again. Gabriel let his eyes fall closed, happily humming as he moved his hands to Jesse’s hips. He was in heaven. He hadn’t been kissed like this or touched like this in years. He wanted to rush and take his time all at once. Experience everything as soon as possible and draw it out. 

Every time Jesse rolled his hips Gabe choked, breaking the kiss so his head could lull back, then snapping back up to kiss him again. He let his hands move around from Jesse’s hips to his backside, spreading his fingers wide and pulling him closer. He felt Jesse bite his bottom lip and he opened his eyes, drinking in the look on Jesse’s face- hungry and needy. 

His exhale was long, and shuddering. Gabriel could see the way his shoulders shook, like a chill had just gone up his spine. His head ducked low, his long hair hanging down and obscuring his face. That was the first moment the uneasiness in his stomach started to feel negative, and he sat up to try and see the expression on Jesse’s face. 

“You okay?” He was surprised to hear his voice, low and barely a whisper. 

“I just don’t want you thinking this is all I want from you,” Jesse replied, keeping his head down. “I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you for a second since I left your house last.” 

Gabriel moved a hand to Jesse’s face, gently pushing his head back up. 

“Promise you won’t make me go home in the morning.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Jesse’s grin made his heart melt. He practically leapt forward, not unlike an oversized dog, lips landing firm on Gabe’s pulse. He peppered his neck with kisses and nips, and Gabriel closed his eyes to enjoy it. His hands were greedy at Jesse’s ass now, a firm grip keeping his hips rolling. His neck felt thoroughly soaked when Jesse pulled away again, panting just slightly. He was definitely hard at this point; Gabe could feel it. 

“I’m gonna hazard a guess and say you probably don’t keep any supplies here.” 

Fuck, he hadn’t even considered it. He hadn’t had a partner in so long, he really did keep nothing in the house. 

“Should we raincheck?” 

“Nah.” 

Jesse dropped onto his elbows. He started to shimmy downward along Gabe’s legs, much to the dismay of his cock that was already missing the friction. He kept his wits about him though, drawing in a long breath. Jesse was undoing his jeans. Jerking them down just enough.

“Didn’t take you for briefs.” 

“I’m old.” 

Jesse was quick to pull those away, too. A shiver shot up Gabe’s spine as the cool air hit him. Now that he was exposed he felt himself get flustered. He hid his mouth behind the back of his hand, working hard to keep himself from averting his gaze. Which got a lot harder when Jesse looked directly at him. How was he so confident?

When he felt Jesse pull his length into his mouth, his breath caught in his throat. His tongue was flat and firm against the underside, and as his face lowered, Gabe felt the head hit the back of his throat. He couldn’t bite back the unsteady whimper that poured out between his lips. Though he did try and suck it back in when he heard Jesse snicker. 

It looked almost pornographic, not that Gabriel would know. Jesse moved a hand around his base and had started to stroke and turn in time with the up and down motion of his head. Gabe was losing himself in the wet heat of his mouth, his head spinning as it struggled for blood flow. 

Despite his nerves he managed to pull his hand away from covering his face, reaching down to thread his fingers through Jesse’s hair. It was in rough shape from being under a hat under a stage light, flattened and filthy. The tips of his fingers barely got around the back of Jesse’s head, but it was enough to guide him. A little deeper, a little faster. 

He would have been embarrassed about how little time it took for him to spill over if it weren’t for the drunk and satisfied look on Jesse’s face. Eyes half-lidded, lips glistening and swollen. He rose to his knees and moved his way up along Gabe’s body, lips carefully pursed. And, as if he had been chewing on tobacco entering a saloon, he spat the spunk cleanly into the empty glass sitting on the bedside table.

Gabriel made a face watching that display. This man was so fucking disgusting. But that sheepish grin he sported as an apology more than made up for it. 

With a long sigh Jesse collapsed onto the bed next to Gabriel, closing his eyes. Gabe rolled onto his side to watch him, blindly reaching for his elbow and going through what could only be the memorized motion of detaching his prosthetic. He did open his eyes to watch where he pushed it, though, making sure it was out of the way without running the risk of knocking it to the floor during the night.

Gabriel’s grin was sly when he moved a hand to Jesse’s stomach, teasing the waistband of his jeans with his ring finger. He was still hard, his fly visible where the denim was pulled tight.

“Looks like you could use  _ a hand _ with that.” 

He wasn’t going to laugh. He knew it wasn’t cool to laugh at your own jokes. But the look Jesse shot him made him break face instantly, rolling away with a loud bark. Jesse’s lips spread into a wide smile, rolling himself to keep his chest pressed to Gabe’s.

“Forget sensitivity training, you’re doing this on purpose.” 

 

He hadn’t realized he had fall asleep until he was waking up. They had spent what felt like hours talking. Talking about Jesse’s students, his band mates, his first kiss. At one point Jesse had asked him why he never settled down with anyone. He went quiet after Gabriel told him he’d watched almost every gay peer he had coming up die alone in hospital beds. Maybe that’s where the conversation stopped and he fell asleep.

Jesse was curled up at his side, nestled into the crook of Gabe’s neck. His hand was holding his phone up on Gabe’ abdomen. A video was playing, the volume low. Space ship, it looked like. The sound of the guns firing and things exploding was practically silent, drowned out by the familiar sound of Hana’s voice. 

“You can watch the video game on your phone?” Gabe asked, his voice low and grumbly with sleep. 

Jesse seemed to jump in surprise, craning his head back. “Yeah,” he answered, his voice practically a whisper. “She streams eight hours before her shifts. Kinda sucks she has no time to be a kid.” 

Gabe couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to watch but he did listen. She was explaining the game, chatting with viewers. 

“And I ordered that new RAM this morning thanks to a really cool customer at my other job, so I’ll have that next week.”

Gabe opened one eye, smiling as much as his exhaustion would let him. “Can you tell her you’re welcome? In the chat room.” 

Jesse breathed out a laugh. “She's got 17,000 viewers right now. She ain’t gonna see it.” 

“Guess I gotta come to work with you tonight and say it in person.” He pressed his face to Jesse’s head and took in a deep, satisfied breath, cut short by the smell that met him. He bit back a cough. “We should shower. I have a big one, with a bench. Great for wet grinding.” 

Jesse clicked the phone off  _ embarrassingly _ fast.

“Safety first, huh? That’s hot.” He threw off the blanket, making Gabriel huff as the cold hit him.  “Better get a move on before the morning wood wears off, Pumpkin.” He threw a leg over Gabe to get past him (lifting himself up with his core again now that he only had one arm,  _ God _ ) and off the bed, still completely naked from the night before.

Young guys were so  _ energetic. _ At least Gabe found a good bribe to keep him clean and showered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this sounds unfinished thatd be because i would actually like to write more to this fic eventually if i can get some decent ideas. just bare with my shitty ending :ok_hand:

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter! https://twitter.com/stakesreyesd


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